A Season of Miracles
by KCFAN
Summary: Festus gets more than he bargained for before Christmas


A Season of Miracles

"_Festus? Festus! Ya need ta listen. Ya cain't come ta me yet. Ya need ta stay here. Do ya hear me? Go back. Listen ta me fer once."_

Festus Haggen stirred slightly and mumbled. Opening his bleary eyes, he stared about him, confused to find himself in a dank, cold cave, a sputtering fire nearby. A chill washed over his tired aching body and he broke out into a wracking cough that sapped most of his energy.

"_Festus?"_

Hearing his name called again, he struggled to open his eyes and locate the source. Turning his head, Festus saw him sitting there, cross legged and smiling slightly at him, an old, worn pipe clenched between his teeth.

"Are ya awake now?" the figure asked, taking the pipe from his lips and knocking it on a nearby rock to empty it of its contents.

Rubbing a hand over his eyes, Festus stared at the form by the fire. "Who…who are ya?"

"Ya know who I am, Festus. It ain't been that long."

"I know who ya look like. Who ya sound like. But it cain't be," he said weakly, closing his eyes to the figure before him.

"Yes, it can, little brother."

Festus' eyes popped back open at the nickname only Fergus, his twin brother, had ever used with him. "Little brother?" he repeated softly.

The apparition laughed in a way that Festus hadn't heard in over five years and he tried to sit up, causing a blinding pain to course through his chest and head.

"Easy." A soft, feathery light hand pushed him back down and Festus stared at it for a moment, then touched it lightly. It felt solid but it seemed to shimmer in a way he had never seen before.

"But, yer…"

"Dead?" the form finished for him. "Yes, I am. Sad but true thanks ta Uncle Jack. And me," he said, plucking a piece of lint from his jacket and tossing it into the fire. "Interestin' the things ya miss when yer dead," he said as he placed his hands over the fire and rubbed.

"Ya…ya don't have fire where ya are?" Festus asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer.

Fergus chortled gleefully. "No! We don't have fire there, little brother."

"Stop calling me little brother! Ya ain't moren ten minutes older'n me."

"Ah, yes, I forgot it made ya mad. Sorry lit…Festus. Better?"

"Reckon so. Am I dead, too?" he asked slowly, raising a shaking hand to his aching, hot forehead.

"No, but not for want of tryin'."

"How come yer here then if'n I ain't dead? I don't believe in ghosts."

"I don't believe in 'em either," Fergus said, laughing softly and shaking his head. "I cain't explain it to ya. I'm here cause ya need me ta be." He was silent for a moment then asked, "Do ya remember what happened to ya?"

Closing his eyes, Festus tried to remember. "I…I remember Matthew wanted me ta pick up that prisoner and take him ta Hays fer him. Ben Cedars"

"Right. Right."

"I…I got him ta Hays and turned him over to the marshal there. The trial was gonna start the next day but he tolt me I didn't need ta wait around fer it."

"Then what happened?"

"Me and ole Ruth started right back ta Dodge. I promised Miss Kitty I'd be home fer Christmas this year. I stopped to pick up a few presents. Not much really," he said sadly, his voice fading.

"And then?" Fergus prompted, bringing Festus awake again and back to his story.

His eyes popped back open. "Then that blizzard hit. Ain't never seen no storm hit quicker'n that one did. One minute blue sky and warm and the next the snow's comin' down so fast, ya cain't see yer hand in front of yer face. And the wind's so cold…I tried to find shelter, but Ruth…" his voice broke as he remembered. "That dad blamed old mule threw me. I…I don't know where he is or if'n he's…"

"Ya always did care too much fer that old hay burner. He's jist a mule."

"He ain't jist a mule and ya know it."

"Calm down," he said as another coughing spell took hold of Festus. "What happened then?" he prompted after he had quieted.

Festus wrapped his arms about his ribs that hurt with every breath and scrunched his face up in thought. "I…I don't know. My ribs hurt some and my head was bleedin'. I thought my leg was busted," he said, carefully raising himself up a bit and looking down at his legs stretched out before him. He moved the left one slightly and cried out in pain.

"Yep. That's the one, little brother. It's broke."

Lying back down, Festus tried to concentrate. "I reckon I crawled here but I don't remember doin' that or settin' this here fire or anythin' else. I wanted to get home fer Christmas but it looks like I won't make it," he said sadly.

Fergus snorted and Festus turned his eyes to him. "What?" he asked with a touch of annoyance.

"Home. Ya think of Dodge City as yer home?"

"Yeah, I do. Ya got a problem with that?"

"Easy, little brother. Don't get all excited it's jist…I never thought ya'd think of any place other'n where we grew up as home."

"Things change, _big_ brother. The place we grew up don't feel like home no more."

"Why?"

"Ya orta know that," he said sadly.

Fergus stared at his brother for a moment then nodded, looking down. "Reckon I do at that."

"Tain't nothin' there fer me no more. Ma, Pa, Jeff…you. Yer all gone now. When ya died…"

"I remember," Fergus interrupted. "I felt yer pain jes like ya felt mine. No need to go rehashin' it. We always did have a strange connection didn't we? No one could understand it."

"I sure never did," Festus said with sleep in his voice as his eyes began to droop closed.

Fergus reached a hand out and slapped Festus on the shoulder. "Stop it! Ya cain't come to me yet. Wake up!"

"Answer me one thing then," said Festus, rubbing his shoulder. "How come yer dead and that hurt?"

Smiling, Fergus wrapped his arms around his legs and shrugged. "Don't have no answer fer ya." He took the pipe from his pocket and relit it, blowing tendrils of smoke from it.

"Ya still got that disgustin' habit, don'tcha?"

Fergus laughed softly. "Yep. Reckon I do. Forgot ya always hated it when Pa and I would light up."

"Thought ya'd stopped. Right before ya…"

"Died?" he finished. "Tolt ya I did, didn't I?"

"Promised me is more like it."

Fergus sighed and took the pipe from his mouth. "All right. I promise, this time for sure. _If_ you keep fightin'."

"Don't reckon it much matters," Festus said softly. "Seein's how ya ain't alive no more and I'm dreamin' all this."

Festus turned his head away and began to cough again then lay his head back down, grimacing at the pain that flared through him and stared at the person before him. "How'd ya know what happened ta me? How can ya even be here?"

"I cain't answer yer questions. I jes knew I needed to help ya and I came."

"Mebbe I don't want yer help. Mebbe I'm too tired to keep fightin'. Mebbe I jes wanna…"

"What? Give up? Why in tarnation do ya wanna do that with all ya got goin' fer ya?"

"Whadda ya mean all I got goin' fer me?" Festus said, opening his eyes and staring hard at his brother. "I got a nice room in the back of the livery that always smells like the hind end of a horse and never enough money to buy anything fer me or people I care about. I got…"

"Ya got another chance, little brother. That's what ya got. Ya got another family and they need ya whether ya know it or not."

Festus snorted. "Need me. Whadda they need me fer?"

"Ya can ask that with everything y'all have gone through the past five years? Think little brother!"

"Stop calling me that!"

"All right! Sorry," he said, throwing his hands up. "Those friends of yers need ya whether ya wanna believe it or not. Ya got more ta do there."

Fergus shook his head at his brother's silence, his eyes never leaving his flushed face. He reached out a hand and placed it on his brow, grimacing. "Yer fever's higher. Yer runnin' out of time, little brother. Ya need to start fightin' harder. He won't be here for awhile yet."

"Who?"

"Ya have to ask that? Who else would come lookin' fer ya in weather like this? Other'n me of course."

"Matthew? He won't come yet. I ain't suppose ta be home fer a few more days. He don't even know I need help."

"Don't he? Maybe ya need to see fer yerself then. See how much the people in Dodge care about ya, ya big dumb hillbilly."

Festus glared at his brother then hesitated as he seemed to shimmer and a misty fog filled the cave. Festus blinked his eyes and stared in amazement as the Long Branch Saloon came into focus, familiar voices echoing in the cave. He saw his friends sitting around their customary table, drinks laying untouched on it.

"Well, he wasn't supposed to be back until Christmas Eve, Matt," Kitty said as she rubbed her fingers up and down her glass distractedly.

"Besides, you know he wouldn't have left Hays in that storm," Doc said. "He's smarter than that."

"I know, I know. I just have the feeling he's in trouble and with the telegraph lines down, I don't have any way of knowing if he's already left Hays or not. Maybe he got there earlier than he figured on and left before he knew what was coming."

"You know, usually it's me, not you that's worried," Kitty said, leaning towards Matt. "You're scaring me."

"I don't mean to scare you, Kitty. I can't explain it. I just have this feeling I should go look for him."

"Do you know how much snow is out there? There's over a foot of snow and ice out there. And where are ya gonna look?" asked Doc.

"I don't know, Doc," Dillon said quietly, staring at his drink, his thoughts far away.

"Marshal?"

Dillon looked up when he heard his name called to see Newly O'Brien coming towards him, a paper in his hand.

"The telegraph is back. Barney asked me to give this to you. Just came in from Hays from the marshal there. Ben Cedars escaped."

Dillon's face went white and he heard Kitty gasp. He took the telegraph from Newly's hand and read through it quickly, then looked up.

"Festus got there earlier than we figured. He dropped Cedars off at the marshal's and headed out without staying over. When the marshal was transferring him to court, Cedars escaped, shot a deputy and wounded the judge. Posse is heading out for him now."

"So Festus was somewhere between here and Hays when the storm hit?" asked a somber Kitty.

"Looks that way, Kitty," said Dillon.

"It's my fault he's out there then," she whispered.

"How do you figure that?" asked Doc harshly.

"I asked him to be home in time for Christmas, Doc. He missed last year, remember? He went to visit his cousins. I wanted us to all be here together this year."

"It's not your fault. He would have done his best to be home anyway. He told me he was looking forward to it," Dillon said reaching a hand out and grabbing hers tightly.

"Marshal? What are we gonna do?" asked Newly.

A sigh escaped Dillon's lips. "I'm going after him."

"Matt, you don't have any idea where he could be. How are you gonna find him?" Kitty asked.

"I know when he left Hays and I know how long it takes to get to Dodge from Hays. Figuring that, he must have been close to Dodge when the storm hit. Might be in a cave up in the hills or in a shelter he made. Hopefully, he's on his way home from wherever he was during the storm."

"Or he's lying hurt somewhere, or worse," Kitty whispered.

"Don't borrow trouble, Kitty. Festus knows what he's doing out there. He's no greenhorn. He'll have found a place to hole up. Probably sitting in some nice warm cave with a rabbit or two spitted over a fire for dinner just waiting for it to clear a bit," Dillon said with a smile as he rose from his seat.

"I'd like to come with you, Marshal and help you look," Newly said.

"I appreciate that Newly, but I want you to stay here and take care of the town till I get back. There shouldn't be any trouble since not much is moving yet with all the snow, but ask Burke for help if you need it. I don't have any idea how long I'll be gone."

He turned to Kitty who stood by her chair, her eyes wet with unshed tears. "Find him, Matt. Please, bring him home. We need him."

Dillon gathered her into his arms and held her close for a moment. "I'll find him. You can count on that."

"Matt? I'll gather some supplies for you in case…well, in case he's hurt," Doc said, rising slowly from his seat. "I'll have them ready for you by the time you're ready to go." He started to go then turned back, a stern look on his face. "You find him. You hear? You bring him home."

"_See? I told ya, little brother. Them folks cares about ya. Don't know why, but they do."_

The fog began to fade and Festus could once more see his brother sitting by his side. "Ya know what I jes figgered out?" Festus said quietly. "I'm havin' those things Doc talks about when people gets a fever. Halloo…halloocy…"

"Ya mean hallucination?"

"Yeah, that's it. That's what I'm havin'. Ya ain't really here. Mebbe I ain't really here. Mebbe I'm in bed sleepin' and cain't wake up."

Fergus reached a hand out and slapped his brother on his broken leg.

"Ow! What in tarnation did ya do that fer?"

"Do what? Do hallucinations hurt? If'n that hurt and hallucinations hurt, then mebbe ya are havin' one. But if'n that hurt and hallucinations don't hurt then ya ain't havin' one. See?"

Festus closed his eyes and moaned, then broke out in a wracking cough. "No, I don't see. Go away," he whispered weakly in between breaths.

"Cain't. Yer still tryin' ta die. And I tolt ya, ya cain't come to me yet. Ya got too much to do yet. Too many people that need ya."

"My friends will be jes fine without me."

"Ya so sure of that, little brother?"

"Yes."

Fergus was quiet for a bit and when Festus opened his eyes he saw him sitting with his eyes closed and unmoving. "Yer still here."

"Yes, I am. Tryin' to decide what ya need to hear to make ya see sense."

"I ain't never bin blessed with sense. Least that's what I always bin tolt. By you and…"

"Doc?" Fergus snorted. "Ya know that man thinks of ya as a brother, don'tcha?"

His words were met with stony silence and Fergus sighed. "I swar I don't know what's got into ya, little brother." Once again Festus didn't reply and Fergus dropped his head, at a loss in how to reach his brother.

"Where do ya think those friends of yourn would be if'n ya never come to Dodge City? Ever think about that? How many times ya stood with Dillon to save that cow town from some outlaw gang or…?"

"Fergus, I'm too tired. Leave me be. I…"

"Stop talkin'," Fergus scolded when Festus broke out into another coughing spell, this one worse than the last. He reached out to his brother and stroked his hand down his fevered brow, aching to be able to help.

"How many times ya reckon ya saved the life of that there marshal friend? Shoot, started when ya met him when you was on Uncle Jack's trail. He woulda died then ya know and ole Uncle Jack would be livin' in Mexico right now."

"How bout that Doctor friend? Remember that snake bite? If'n ya hadn't a followed him out to that fishin' spot, he woulda died. Ya saved him. And what about Miss Kitty? Ya took a bullet fer her when that fella broke in her room and tied her up. What was his name?"

"Strom," Festus said hoarsely. "If'n I hadn't bin there, Thad woulda…"

"Oh, Thad my foot! Ya saved her from somethin' bad, little brother."

Festus closed his eyes and struggled to stay conscious. "Fergus, anyone could have been there. Anyone…"

"But it was you! Don'tcha see that? _You_ they call friend. _You_ they look forward to bein' with. Might not ever admit it but…Why do ya think Miss Kitty asked ya ta be back fer Christmas?"

Silence met his question and Fergus leaned forward to look closer at his brother, afraid for a moment he had stopped breathing.

"I…I don't know why, Fergus. I'm too tired ta think about it. Jist let me…"

"No! I ain't gonna let ya sleep! She asked ya to be "home" cause she cares about ya. Oh heck, I reckon she loves ya fer some reason. Not like that tall fella course, but love. Cain't ya see that?"

"Fergus, how bout ya shut up, now?"

"Not yet. How bout that Newly fella? Didn'tcha ride with Dillon to save him and Miss Kitty from that Manez guy? If'n ya hadn't shot that outlaw he woulda plugged him. Remember? He was jist about ta…"

"Fergus?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up. No more stories. If'n I put all my energies inta livin', will ya shut up?"

"Wall acourse I will, little brother. Now yer gittin' it," he said sitting back with a satisfied smile on his face.

Travel was difficult through the heavy drifts, causing Dillon to move more slowly than he would have liked. Pausing every once in a while to look about, he hoped against hope he saw something that told him where his friend and deputy might be. He had been on the trail, or where he thought the trail to be, for a few hours now and had seen no sign of Festus. No signs telling him he, or anyone for that matter, had come this way. There weren't even any animal tracks to be seen: the prairie was a deep, untouched, snowbound landscape.

Gazing at the slowly setting sun, he knew he would need to find shelter for the night soon. As familiar as he was with the area, he was not sure in what direction to go. His instinct was to head further north towards Hays, hoping to find some sign before nightfall, but something was urging him to turn east.

Pulling his mount to a stop, Dillon stared hard about him. To the north lay a few outcrops of rocks he knew would make good stopping spots, even a cave or two he knew of. But east, there were fewer options for shelter. Deciding north was the best choice despite the nagging urge to head east; he spurred his horse on towards Hays.

Not long after his decision, he noticed the sun beginning to set, its rays casting an eerie orange tint on the pristine countryside. The whiteness was set afire by the setting sun and Dillon paused briefly to admire the beauty of the scene. How could something that filled a man like him with awe be so deadly? His friend could be anywhere out there, perhaps covered by that beautiful mantle of white and the thought filled him with a deep sadness.

He shook his head against such thoughts and continued on, hoping for some sign and fighting the desire for sleep that seemed to permeate his very bones with every step.

A few minutes later, the sun almost fully set, he stopped in his tracks when he saw a man approaching slowly through the snow on foot. For a second, he thought the man was Festus and hope rose within him, but then noticed subtle differences in his manner and his clothes. The man showed no sign of being afraid or hesitant, and his manner was one of determination.

Waiting till he was right in front of Dillon, he stopped and greeted him with a brief wave.

"Howdy. Lookin' for somethin'?" he asked in a quiet drawl that was so much like Festus it shook Dillon, who tried to see the man's face. The darkness kept him from seeing the man's countenance, but the sense of familiarity was strong. The pungent odor of burning tobacco brought Dillon's attention briefly to the pipe dangling from the man's mouth. Distinctively colored wood tinted the worn, curved stem and the bowl was of an odd shape.

"Not something-someone," Dillon said succinctly, turning his attention back to the man before him. "A friend. He was on his way home from Hays when the storm hit. Have you seen anyone out here?"

The man nodded slowly. "He's back that way bout a mile," he said pointing over his shoulder to the east.

"How do you know who I'm looking for?"

"Don't matter how I know, do it? Yer lookin' fer a man that's lost. I found one. Cain't be that many fools lost out here, can there?"

"My friend's no fool, Mister. He was doing a job," Dillon said crossly, bristling at hearing Festus called a fool.

The man waved a dismissive hand in front of him. "I know all about it. Yer friend's name's Festus, right? Ya wanna see him or don'tcha?"

Dillon nodded slowly. "Climb on up here and show me the way."

The man laughed shortly. "No thanks. I'd ruther walk if'n ya don't mind."

"Lead on."

The two walked on for a time in silence till Dillon couldn't take the quiet any more. "Why were you coming from the north if my friend is east of here?"

The man looked over his shoulder at Dillon. "Cause I was lookin' fer you."

"Me? How did you know I would be here?"

"Ya ask a lot of questions, mister. Anyone ever tell ya that?" the man said with a sigh. "I was lookin fer someone ta help the man I found. I found you. All right?"

Dillon scowled at the man's response. "This man…Festus, is he hurt?"

"Sick. And hurt."

"Bad?"

"Yep."

"You're a man of few words."

The man laughed heartily. "Know a few people would disagree with that. Little…Festus is one of 'em."

"You sound like you know him."

"Do, don't it?"

When the man said no more, Dillon frowned and settled into his saddle, keeping a slow enough pace for the man on the ground. A half hour later, the newly risen full moon cast a bright beam over the prairie illuminating their way, the man stopped and pointed. "He's up there."

Looking to where he pointed, Dillon saw nothing. Turning back he could just make out the glimmer of a smile on the man's face and once again was assaulted with the feeling of familiarity. "I don't see anything."

"They's a cave up there, Mister. Trust me. Snow's blocking it. He ain't got much time left if'n he ain't given up again."

"Given up?"

He nodded. "Mebbe he'll tell ya about it when ya get back ta Dodge. Now, ya gotta help him. You'll need blankets and bandages. Oh and a splint fer his leg. He's got some busted ribs and a knot on the side of his head. Might wanna take that whiskey ya got in that saddle bag fer later when it gets cold in there. Might keep ya warm."

"How do you know I have whiskey?"

"Ya do don'tcha? Who in their right mind would go out on a night like this'n without no whiskey?"

In spite of himself, Dillon smiled as he heard Festus once again in the man's words and speech. He dismounted and reached for his saddlebags filled with whiskey and food as well as bandages and other medical items Doc feared he may need and slung them over his shoulder. Then he pulled his bedroll and an extra blanket from his saddle.

Turning, he looked about him for his guide, but to his shock found no one. Taking the lantern that was tied to his saddle, he lit it and peered about him carefully. No one was in sight. Looking to the ground, he found no footprints, no evidence the man had been there and Dillon felt his heart quicken. Pushing his fear and apprehension aside, he headed for the hill.

Casting one last look back, Dillon began the climb, stopping when he reached a mound of snow at the top. Reaching a hand out, he pushed at it and was amazed when it gave way, revealing a cave hidden behind it. Crawling on his hands and knees, he entered and saw Festus lying motionless by a sputtering fire. Warmth filled the snow bound cave and Dillon hastily filled the hole back in that he had come through.

Walking to his side he knelt by him and laid a hand on his fevered brow and frowned. Festus muttered something in his sleep Dillon couldn't quite hear and he reached a hand out to shake him. "Festus? Festus can you hear me?"

Festus stirred and grimaced. "Go away, Fergus. I dun tolt ya I won't give up. Now leave me be." The effort to speak caused him to erupt in a horrible cough that filled Dillon with fear. He laid a gentle hand on his friend's chest, feeling helpless as he coughed violently.

Once the spell was over and Festus had quieted once more, Dillon sat back and regarded his friend. Festus' twin brother Fergus had been dead for over five years, killed shortly before he and Festus had met. He shook his head, feeling sure Festus was delirious, but hesitating slightly when he thought of the disappearing guide. He remembered the man saying Festus was hurt and carefully checked him for any injuries, pausing when he cried out when he moved his left leg.

Carefully, Dillon tore the pant leg and gently manipulated the leg, feeling relief when it felt as though the bone was broken but not displaced. Looking about him, he saw a pile of sticks and branches near the cave entrance, then back to Festus wondering how he had managed to gather wood in his state, then decided his disappearing guide had. But why hadn't he also set the leg?

Shaking his head, he chose two stout branches and went to work setting the leg. Finished with that, he ran his hands down his friend's chest to check for broken ribs, grimacing when he found three that were broken. Taking a length of cloth, he bound the ribs tightly, then cleaned the knot on the side of his head as gently as he could.

When done with his doctoring, he covered him with the blanket and tucked it about him, pausing to lay a hand on his forehead again, frowning at the heat he felt there. Taking the bandanna from around Festus' neck, he wrapped snow in it and laid it on his forehead, hoping to lower his temperature somewhat, and sat back.

"Well, there's no way we can go anywhere tonight. Guess this is home for the time being," he whispered, not taking his eyes from his friend's flushed face. Rising, he built the fire up again and set to work making something to eat, hoping Festus would be able to at least drink something.

The night passed slowly as Dillon struggled to stay awake in case Festus needed him. In his fevered state, he mumbled and struggled to breathe whenever a coughing spasm took hold of him. Dillon felt powerless as he watched his friend cough then sink back into a semi-comatose state whenever a spell ended.

His restlessness was contagious and Dillon found himself rising to walk about the cave, pondering what had happened. He knew he had seen the man that had guided him. Even though he had been drowsy, he was sure as he could be that the man had been there. But where had he gone and where were the footprints that would have told Dillon which way the man had gone?

Not finding an answer, Dillon settled himself by his friend's side once more and listened as Festus mumbled unintelligibly.

Feeling it must be morning at last, but unable to see in the isolated cave, Dillon rose and walked to the cave entrance, digging a pathway to the outside and gazing about him. Early morning sun cast its brilliant beams on the white landscape and blazed into his eyes causing him to shade them as the brightness threatened to blind him. A warm breeze, or at least a breeze warmer than it had been, blew into Dillon's face ruffling his hair slightly. If it continued to warm up, the snow would just be a memory, he thought in satisfaction.

Crouching down, he reentered the cave and stood staring down at his friend. He needed to get him back to Dodge City and into Doc's care as soon as possible but it was the getting there that was going to be a problem. The snow was too deep to try using a travois so that meant he would have to get Festus up onto Buck and ride double.

Walking to his friend's side, he knelt and placed a hand on his chest, then shook him gently. "Festus? Wake up. Can you hear me?"

He shook him again and this time was rewarded with eyes that opened slightly. Calling to him again elicited more of a response from the deputy and a groan.

"Fergus?" he whispered hoarsely.

"No, Festus. It's Matt. Can you wake up for me?"

Festus blinked his eyes repeatedly and stared about him in a confused manner. "What…where's Fergus?"

"It's just me here, Festus."

A round of coughing racked Festus' tired body and he closed his eyes.

"Here," Dillon said, placing the brim of his canteen by Festus' lips. "Have some water."

Swallowing the water eagerly, he wiped his mouth and stared into Dillon's concerned eyes. "Matthew? How'd ya find me?"

Dillon laughed. "Well, that's a story for another time. Right now, I need to get you back to town. You're gonna have to ride Buck back with me. Snow's too deep for a travois."

"Whatever ya say, Matthew."

"What happened to you? Do you remember?"

It took a moment for Festus to work up the energy to speak. "Ruth threw me in the storm and run off. I don't know where he got to. Probly dead," he said sadly.

"How did you get here then?"

"I don't know. I woke up here with…" he stopped what he was about to say and wrinkled up his forehead. Fergus couldn't have been here. It was impossible. Still, it had seemed so real.

"With?" Dillon prompted.

Festus mouth moved but no sound came out as he struggled to think. "I don't know, Matthew. When I come to, they was a fire and a stack of firewood and I was a laying here with a busted leg and ribs."

"No one was with you?" Dillon asked softly.

Festus stared at Dillon in the scant light. "Who…who'd be here with me?" he asked weakly, his eyes not leaving Dillon's face.

"I…I don't know Festus. I don't know," he finished, not sure what he should say or what had happened. The strange man flashed through Dillon's mind as he stared about him.

"Do you think you can eat something? I have some food left from last night."

"No, Matthew. I don't think that's a good idea right now," he said feebly."

"All right, let me gather up these supplies and feed and water Buck. Then we can get on back to Dodge and have Doc look at you."

He watched as Festus nodded weakly and closed his eyes, his breathing loud in the cavern. Rising, he cast a look back at Festus then about the cave and left, saddling Buck and preparing to leave and head for Dodge.

Finished with packing the remainder of the supplies he had brought and putting out the fire, he knelt by Festus and shook him gently. He was a long time in regaining consciousness and Dillon felt fear for his friend when he burst out into a fresh round of coughing. Exhausted, he lay back and stared up into Dillon's concerned face. "Matthew?"

"I'm all packed. You ready to get up on Buck now?"

He nodded weakly and pushed halfheartedly at the blanket covering him. Dillon grabbed the cover and threw it back, wrapping it in his arms quickly. Reaching a hand under Festus' shoulders, he grabbed him and pulled him to his feet, eliciting a low moan from his friend. Steadying him as he swayed shakily, he half carried him to the cave entrance and to where Buck stood patiently waiting. Festus squinted in the bright sun and gazed about him at the unspoiled scene and shook his head.

"What is it, Festus?"

"I…I don't remember comin' here atall, Matthew," he said hoarsely, his voice barely discernible.

"Well, you've got a pretty good fever. I imagine there's a lot about the past couple of days you don't remember," Dillon said as he helped Festus up into the saddle, ignoring his moan of pain as he wrapped his arms about his middle, holding his aching ribs. Dillon wrapped the blanket about him, holding a hand to him to keep him from falling off, then swung himself easily into the saddle behind him.

"Matthew, I…I'm obliged to ya fer comin' after me. Didn't think I was gonna make it."

"No problem, Festus. You would have done the same for me," he said, smiling when he felt Festus nod slightly. Casting one last look back at the cave, he urged Buck down the slope and turned him towards Dodge, holding tightly to Festus who had once again passed out.

Early evening's muted light streamed through the window in the back room of Doc Adams as he gazed distractedly out at the activity on the street below. Fat flakes of snow fell once more from the sky, covering the areas of town that had been shoveled clear or had melted in the brief blast of warm weather. He watched as people scurried from the General store, their arms loaded with packages or supplies for the upcoming holiday. He ticked his head at the bustle below, then turned back to his patient who lay silent and unmoving in the bed by the window.

"Two days, Festus. You've been here two days and you haven't said a word or moved an inch in that time," the old man said sadly as he seated himself once more by his friend's side. Laying a cool hand to Festus' hot forehead, he shook his head in sadness, then grabbed a rag lying in a basin of water, rung it out and laid it on his head once more.

Sitting back in his chair, he ran a hand over his tired face and closed his eyes, hoping when he opened them again, Festus would be looking back at him.

Matt had returned with Festus two days ago, burning with fever and muttering in his delirium. The broken leg and ribs had been set easily enough and the wound on his head cleaned and bandaged. Serious injuries yes, but it was pneumonia and fever that kept Festus locked deeply in his coma.

Lost in his musings of the past few days, Doc's eyes drifted closed and he didn't hear the door to the bedroom open or see the two that entered quietly, walking in to stare down at the man they both called friend.

"Doc? Is there any change?" Kitty asked softly, hope in her voice.

Doc looked up quickly, surprised he hadn't heard them enter. "Some, Kitty. He's breathing easier and his fever's down a bit. But he still hasn't awakened."

Kitty sat by Festus' side and took his hand in hers. Clasping it tightly she frowned at the warmth there and stared into his face. He'd come home in time for Christmas just as he'd promised, but she wondered guiltily if that promise might cost him his life. She closed her eyes to the tears that threatened to spill from her tired eyes. If only she hadn't made him promise.

"Doc? It's almost time for Christmas Eve services," Matt said as he lit a lamp in the dark room and settled his big frame in the chair at the foot of the bed, straddling it easily. "Kitty and I thought you might want to go. We'll stay here with Festus," he said softly, turning his eyes to his friend.

"Time for services already? Why I thought it was only…" he broke off his words when he looked out the window and saw that the sun had set a long time ago and the room was in shadow, the lamp Matt lit casting its warm glow over the darkened room. "I guess I fell asleep," he said running a hand over his eyes, and trying to stifle a yawn.

"You've been up with him since I brought him here, Doc. You needed the sleep."

"Yes, and you need to get out of here now. Go to church and relax. Say a prayer for him," Kitty added.

"No, no I think I should stay here. I can pray just as easily here as there. I…I don't want to be far away if…when he wakes up."

"We'll come get you, Doc. It's not that far away."

"Well, I know that, Matt! I just would rather stay here. Besides, it's cold out there and it's snowing again."

"You need a break, Doc," Kitty said laying a hand on his. "You can't keep staying up with him and not sleeping."

"Well, as I recall I was sleeping till you two came in. Why don't _you_ both go to services and say a prayer for him. I'll stay here where it's warm."

"Why don'tcha all go to services and I'll wait right here fer ya," said a weak, hoarse voice from the bed.

Doc, Matt and Kitty all turned surprised eyes to Festus, whose eyes were open to slits, but open nonetheless.

"Festus! How long you been awake?" Kitty asked, leaning closer to her friend.

He smiled slightly. "I…reckon not long. If'n y'all weren't fussin' at each other I reckon I coulda got a bit more sleep," he said as he blinked his eyes repeatedly in an effort to get them to focus, then tried to sit up causing pain to flare through his ribs.

Doc reached out a hand to his friend and pushed him back down. "Not just yet, Festus. You've got a few broken ribs and a broken leg, not to mention a knot on your head. You're gonna be in this bed for awhile so get used to the idea."

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Festus lay back and stared about him. "How'd I git here? Last I remember I was in that there cave with…" he broke off what he was about to say and his brow furrowed in thought.

"With who, Festus? Do you know who was with you?" asked Dillon quietly, leaning closer to his friend.

Festus' eyes darted to Dillon's and he stared hard at him, unable to think for a moment. He closed his eyes and thought for a long time. "I…I don't know, Matthew," he said raising a hand to his suddenly aching head, his voice gravelly. "I…I thought…" Festus shook his head, an act he immediately regretted as pain coursed through him. Fergus couldn't have been there. He was dead and dead people didn't come back for visits. But it had all seemed so real.

"You thought what, Festus?" pressed Dillon, who seemed anxious for Festus to remember.

Opening his eyes, he stared back at Dillon. "I thought someone was with me, but I reckon…I reckon I was dreamin'," he said quietly, an unexplained sadness filling him.

"You were pretty out of it when I found you in that cave," Dillon said softly. "You kept muttering and when you came to for a second, you thought I was…" Dillon stopped, unsure what to say.

"Who, Matthew?" Festus asked, his eyes on Dillon's.

Dillon looked away for a minute, his own questions filling him. "You… thought I was Fergus, Festus," he finished softly.

Questions swirling in his tired mind, Festus lay his head back against the pillow and closed his eyes once more.

Kitty looked from Matt to Festus, feeling an undercurrent of something between the two men, but not understanding it. "Well, it doesn't matter right now who was or wasn't there. Whoever it was, we owe a lot to. All that really matters is you're awake and it's almost Christmas," Kitty said leaning over to give Festus a kiss on his bristly cheek.

"I reckon," he said quietly, avoiding Dillon's eyes.

"Well, now that our patient here is awake, you can stop worrying about him and go to Christmas Eve services. Both of you," Doc said, making a shooing motion with his hands.

"Doc? Do me a favor?" asked Festus quietly.

"Anything, Festus. What is it?"

"Go with Miss Kitty and Matthew. I reckon by the looks of ya, ya ain't bin outta this here room since I got here," he said looking to Kitty for confirmation. "I'll be fine."

"Festus you're still too sick to be left…"

"I'll stay here, Doc," Matt broke in, staring at Festus in the low light. I…well, we haven't had any time to talk, at least not while he hasn't been delirious. I want to know what happened out there to him. You two go on."

It took some talking but Doc finally decided he wasn't going to win and went off to make himself presentable, or a least less rumpled. With Kitty on his arm, he looked back at the two men and, with the admonishment to keep the conversation short, left.

Dillon paced the room, then settled himself by Festus' bedside once more feeling his friend's eyes on him.

"What's wrong, Matthew?" he asked weakly.

"I don't know, Festus. I just…have questions about what happened out there."

"Don't know I can tell ya any moren I already did. I don't know how I got there. I don't know who was in the cave with me."

"Someone was in the cave then?"

Festus closed his eyes and sighed. "What difference does it make? Someone musta bin there. Right? Unless I gathered up that firewood and made a fire I don't remember settin'."

Silence filled the room for a bit, then Dillon got up from his chair and paced to the window.

"I didn't tell you how I found you, did I?" asked Dillon as he gazed out at the darkened street below.

"No. Not that I recollect."

"I was on the wrong trail, Festus. I was heading north, to the caves north of town on the road to Hays. Something kept telling me to head east, but I kept going north. Not long after the cutoff to Larned, a man came out of nowhere and told me I should head east. Told me he'd found you and you were in a cave east of where we were."

He turned back to look Festus in the eye. "I gotta tell you, old friend," he said with a slight laugh. "I thought it was you coming towards me on the road in the dark. The man walked like you and talked like you. I couldn't see his face but he had a pipe stuck in his mouth and…"

"A…a pipe?" Festus croaked.

"Yeah. A pipe. Does that mean something to you?"

Festus stared at Dillon for a long time, knowing that he could trust this man with his life but afraid he would think he was crazy if he told him he had thought Fergus had been in the cave with him.

He sighed and closed his eyes. "Fergus smoked a pipe, Matthew."

"Fergus your twin brother?"

"Don't reckon theys moren one Fergus," he laughed shortly, causing a fresh round of coughing which quieted with a sip of water Dillon gave him.

"This man that said he found me, ya ever git a look at him?"

"No. His face was always in shadow."

"What about when ya got to the cave?"

Hesitating, Dillon looked away for a moment, then looked back at his friend, "When we got to the cave, he said you were hurt and needed attention. Said something about you giving up. I went to get the supplies from my saddlebags and when I turned back he was gone."

"Gone? Where?"

"That's what I don't know," Dillon said throwing his hands in the air and stalking about the room. "Festus, I'm a rational man. I don't believe in ghosts, but…"

"But what, Matthew?" Festus asked, trying to sit up in bed a bit more.

"I can't explain where he went. There weren't any footprints in the snow to tell me where he'd gone. Nothing. If he'd come back the way we'd come, his prints would have been on top, not Buck's, right?"

At Festus' nod he continued. "Buck's were still on top. He didn't go back the way we'd come and he didn't go forward or down the hill or up it. I can't explain it."

Dillon pulled up a chair by Festus' bedside and sat, leaning towards his friend. "So tell me what you remember, all of it, Festus. No matter how it sounds."

Festus lay his head back against the pillows and sighed. "When I woke up, I weren't alone. Fergus was asittin' by the fire smokin' that pipe of his and smilin' like he was havin' a good ole time, just like he used ta. Told me I had to fight harder ta live, that there was people needed me back in Dodge."

Dillon nodded.

"He tolt me you was comin' fer me and I remember tellin' him ya didn't even know I needed help. He…he showed me ya did know."

"How?" he asked his brow furrowed in question. "How'd he show you I knew?"

Exhaustion gripped Festus as he tried hard to remember. "I don't know how, Matthew, but I saw the Long Branch and you was all sittin' there talkin'. Newly come in with a telegram tellin' ya I left Hays earlier'n we figgered. Miss Kitty thought my leavin' early was her fault fer wantin' me home fer Christmas and then ya left to try ta find me," he finished hurriedly as he fought off the blackness of sleep. He turned his eyes to Dillon. "I cain't explain it, Matthew. But I truly thought Fergus was in that there cave with me. I don't…don't know how but…" Festus' eyes fluttered closed and he slipped into a deep slumber.

Placing a hand on his friend's forehead, Dillon was relieved to feel less warmth there. He sat back and watched him as he slept soundly, pondering what he had said. Shaking his head, he contemplated the possibilities, every time coming back to the impossible. Gazing out the window, he watched the flakes of snow fall and heard in the distance the joyful voices of Dodge City's citizens raised together in song in the little church at the end of the street. A season of miracles?

Dillon shook his head at the impossibility of it. Never one to be overly religious, he felt there had to be another explanation. Festus was delirious, that much he knew, so anything he saw in the cave was born of a fever and an overactive imagination. And the disappearing man? He must have simply missed the man's footprints in the darkness and the urgency to find Festus. Probably a hermit that wintered in the sheltering caves near where they had been. That's all there was to it. And the familiarity he felt when he saw and heard his guide was simply the product of being focused on finding Festus.

Satisfied, Dillon leaned back in his chair and regarded his friend who lay asleep and smiled. He had to admit the man added a whole new dimension to his life that hadn't been there before they had come across each other on the trail of Black Jack Haggen all those years ago.

Christmas morning dawned bright and clear, the air crisp and the sky a shade of blue so deep it made one stop to stare and wonder at its beauty. Kitty was like a kid, barely able to wait for the others to rise in her haste to welcome Christmas with her friends all together for a change; gratitude in her heart that Festus had returned to them safely.

Doc, having slept soundly for the first time since Festus had been lost, rose with a little spring in his step. Stopping by Festus' bedside, he placed a gentle hand on his friend's forehead, smiling as he felt less warmth there. He was getting better and would be up and about soon, causing mayhem wherever he went just as before, he thought in satisfaction.

Matt stopped by the Long Branch to wish Sam and Kitty a merry Christmas then grabbed Kitty's hand and pulled her to him in a tight embrace. With a quick peck on the lips and a promise of more later, the two left the Long Branch with a bag full of presents and climbed the stairs to Doc's, pausing as they heard Louie call out "Merry Christmas!" to them and with a pledge to see Festus later on his lips.

They opened the door to Doc's and were rewarded with the sound of the two men arguing in the next room.

"I don't care what you think! You're the patient and I'm the doctor and I say you're not getting out of bed for several more days! And I want you to drink that broth there even if you _would_ rather have turkey and dressing."

"Why you old scutter you," they heard Festus say, a bit weakly. "I didn't say I was gettin' up now. What I said was…"

Kitty interrupted with a hearty "Merry Christmas!" as she opened the door to the back bedroom cautiously. Doc stood over Festus, a stern look on his face quickly replaced by one of delight as he saw her sweep into the room. Festus, still flushed, sat up a little straighter in bed, ignoring the pull of his broken ribs.

"Wall, now if you ain't a sight fer sore eyes! Mebbe you can tell this old quack quack to leave me be," he said, his voice stronger, but still hoarse.

Kitty walked into the room, pausing to place a kiss on Doc's cheek before seating herself on the edge of the bed. "You behave and do what Doc tells you to." Her face softened for a moment. "We almost lost you, you know."

A contrite look in his eyes, Festus lay back on the pillows as he felt her sadness and guilt, remembering what he had heard in the cave. She felt responsible. He'd have to set her straight on that but before he could say anything, she started pulling wrapped gifts of different sizes from her bag and handing them out.

"I thought since you wouldn't be able to join us at the Long Branch, we'd come to you," Kitty said happily, smiling at him broadly.

Sadness filled Festus as he remembered the gifts he had purchased in Hays: gifts that had been on Ruth, who was also gone now. It was all gone and he felt a deep sadness at the loss.

He looked up when he realized the room had grown quiet and saw Kitty holding out a small wrapped gift to him, staring at him with tears in her eyes.

"Miss Kitty? What's wrong?"

She shook her beautiful red head and swiped at her eyes. "It's nothing. You just had such a sad look on your face. I…I guess you were thinking of something or someone?"

"It's jes…I had me some gifts fer y'all. Not much, but somethin' fer a change. They was in the saddlebags on…on Ruth," he said his voice breaking as he thought of the "old hay burner".

"You mean these saddlebags, Festus?" said a voice from the doorway.

He looked up to see Newly standing in the entry holding saddlebags that looked a lot like the ones he had lost. Confusion washed over Festus' face. He knew he was still a bit foggy on things but he knew the bags had been on Ruth.

"They look a lot like mine, Newly, but how…"

"How did I get them?" he finished with a smile.

At Festus' nod he approached and laid them on the bed, looking to Dillon who had a smile on his face. "Old man Tolliver from over near Bear Creek brought them into town early this morning. He thought we might know who they belonged to."

Festus reached a hand out to the soft, worn leather and touched it hesitantly, running his hand over the leather. "They's mine all right, Newly. I…thank you. I…I reckon he found them on Ruth's…on Ruth's body?" he said softly, his voice breaking.

"Well, they were on Ruth yes, sir."

Festus nodded slowly. "Thank him fer me will ya?"

"Sure will, Festus." He turned as if to go then looked back, a smile on his face. "Oh, and by the way, he said to tell you it's lucky you ride a jack mule and not a stallion or he would have shot old Ruth last night."

Festus raised his eyes to Newly's and saw the smile on his face, then looked to Matt who had the same look. "Woulda shot him?"

"Yep. He found Ruth in his pasture with his prize mares last night. Got his shotgun to take care of him when he noticed, first, he was a mule and no threat to his breeding stock and second, it was Ruth, still saddled.

Festus blinked his eyes repeatedly, trying to take it all in. "Ruth's alive?"

"Sure is, Festus. He's down in the livery right now being pampered by Louie and Hank."

Closing his eyes, Festus lay his head back against the cool pillows, pondering the fact his most prized possession in the whole world was still with him. Opening his eyes he saw the faces of the people that had come to mean as much, if not more, to him and he smiled. "I reckon it ain't called a season of miracles fer nothin'," he said lightly.

The others laughed and started opening the presents that Kitty had brought for them and giggling like school kids. Festus watched as his friends laughed and admired their gifts and felt a peace.

"Here, here now!" he said quickly when they had started to put their new gifts down. "That ain't all the presents. I tolt ya I got y'all somethin'," and he reached his hand into the bag and handed out what he considered meager gifts, but which meant a lot more to the friends that opened them.

Newly reached his hand out for Festus' saddlebags when he was done, intending to put them on the chair. "Festus? There's something else in here," he said, feeling something roll around inside.

"Wall, that's all I bought. Shouldn't be nothin' else," he said confused.

He reached out a hand and took the bag from Newly. Reaching inside he pulled out the object and gasped. In his hand lay a pipe, its brightly colored stem wrapped in a big red ribbon. Festus stared at it for a long time, running a finger down the well worn wood.

"Who do you know that smokes a pipe, for crying out loud?" asked Doc.

Festus was silent for a long time. His mouth thinned and after a time he said slowly. "Onliest ones I know smoked pipes was my brother, Fergus, and my Pa. This'n…this was my brother's."

He raised his eyes to Dillon, who stared at the pipe hard, a puzzled expression on his face.

Lifting his eyes to meet Festus', a small smile played on his lips and he shook his head. Last night's satisfying conclusions flew out the window as he recognized the pipe as the one the man on the trail had smoked.

"Well, what in tarnation are you doing with it? You aren't gonna start smoking are you because if you are I have a few things to…"

Festus held up his hand. "I ain't gonna start."

"Then what are you doing with it?"

Festus closed his eyes and heard a voice echo in his head, _"I promised, little brother. Be happy with your new family." _ He glanced to the side and saw Fergus leaning on the wall by the window, his arms folded and an impish smile lighting his face.

Keeping his eyes on the figure, he smiled back. "It's jes a little reminder, Doc. A little promise and a little reminder," he said looking back at his friends-his family-sitting beside him, warmth that had nothing to do with his dwindling fever filling him. He was home, right where he belonged.


End file.
